Wine Coolers and Beautiful Disasters
by SweetandUnknown
Summary: "Look, I've been told I'm a great kisser," you feel the words leaving your mouth without much consent from the sober part of your mind, "And apparently you're also a great kisser. So it wouldn't be bad or anything." — one-shot, Faberry, Rachel's POV, summer before college


Summary: "Look, I've been told I'm a great kisser," you feel the words leaving your mouth without much consent from the sober part of your mind, "And apparently you're also a great kisser. So it wouldn't be bad or anything." — one-shot, Faberry, Rachel's POV, summer before college

Rated: T

A/N: I thought this up on Tumblr last night, so I wrote this little thing.

* * *

**Wine Coolers and Beautiful Disasters**

* * *

You open your third wine cooler and take a generous gulp. Your stomach feels warm, and you let yourself enjoy the general fuzziness in your head. You just returned home from New York yesterday, and you have another month before you leave to make preparations for NYADA. You sent in all your enrollment paperwork, and you know you should feel excited. Instead, you just feel rather heartbroken as you look at all the people around you who will soon be halfway across the country.

You can't help but notice how Santana keeps looking sadly at her girlfriend. Brittany has a smile plastered to her face, but you know it must have been hard to see her friends and girlfriend graduate without her. You know Finn won't come to the party because the first place you went when you arrived back in Lima was his house.

"_Did you have a good time?" he asks, sitting awkwardly on the other end of the couch._

"_Yes, but I wanted you to be there with me."_

"_No, Rach. I'd be out of my element."_

_You smile because he actually got a phrasing right._

"_One day…"_

"_Yeah," he agrees with a sad smile, "and you'll know all the best places and be in the best show on Broadway."_

"_Are you going to Noah's party this weekend?"_

"_No… I have to go to the recruitment center. I have paperwork and health exams, so I need to finish enlisting."_

_You nod solemnly. "Promise me you'll stay alive out there," you say, tears escaping your eyes._

"_You promise me the same."_

_You laugh, "I'm not going to be firing weapons."_

"_I know, but if you stayed here… you wouldn't be living. So just… promise me you'll do it."_

"_Okay," you say, and you lean across the couch and kiss him on the cheek._

"Hey," you hear from beside you, and you realize you've been staring mindlessly at the beer pong game for the past few minutes.

"Hey," you say, putting on a smile as you turn to see Quinn, taking in your expression warily.

"How was your trip?" Quinn asks, timidly sipping from her own wine cooler.

"Intense," you say with a sigh. "The city's beautiful… a bit smelly, but it's also everything I've ever wanted."

"I'm happy for you, Rachel," Quinn says, gently tapping the neck of her bottle to yours, "You'll let me know when you're in your first play, and I'll hop a train from New Haven."

You smile, and it feels like the first real one since returning home. "I'd like that. You'll let me know, too?"

Quinn sighs as she picks at the label, "I, uh, actually won't be doing Yale School of Drama."

"What?" you raise your head to look at her face so quickly the room takes a second to catch up.

"I'll still be attending Yale, but I'm not going to declare a major yet. I kind of realized that it would be nice to explore my options. The past four years have been me forging some path, and I guess I want to see what else is out there, you know?"

She seems unsure, but you like how her hazel eyes shine in uncertainty, as if searching yours for validation. You've always admired how beautiful Quinn looked when vulnerable – the way she would sometimes let you see how her messy heart beats. So few people saw that side of her, so it felt like a privilege, like she's giving you part of her to hold for safe keeping.

"You'll do great, whatever you choose."

"Stop making out with Berry and get your ass over here, Q!" Santana shouts across the room as she sets up a fresh set of cups.

"Rachel, come be a cheerleader with me!" Brittany says, clapping enthusiastically.

Your face feels warm, but you laugh it off and grab another wine cooler before joining the rest of the group.

* * *

It starts as a joke. You, Brittany, Quinn, and Santana are all squished into the couch as people continue singing and dancing to the loud music in the living room. Your eyes are closed as you sway your head to the music, and you know you're slightly off beat, but the motion is so enjoyable you don't do anything to fix it.

"Could you not?" Quinn says from beside you. You look over and see Santana accidentally groping Quinn's leg as she makes out with Brittany.

"Jealous, Q?" Santana asks, wiggling her eyebrows as she moves her hand to her girlfriend's back.

Brittany turns and looks at Quinn with an apologetic frown, "I'm sorry, Quinn."

You're mildly amused by this, assuming Quinn is used to their behavior.

Brittany's face brightens as she looks at you, "Why don't you make out with Rachel? That'd be fun!"

If you thought you were blushing before, your face must be on fire now.

"Oh my god," Quinn mumbles, putting her face in her hand.

Brittany leans back behind Quinn to look at you, "Quinn's a great kisser," she notes.

"Brittany!" Quinn's voice escapes from behind her own hand, still covering her face.

You let out a small chuckle as you watch the blush bloom on Quinn's cheeks.

The other blonde just shrugs and adds, "What? You are, Q."

"I wouldn't be opposed," you find yourself saying.

Santana's expression is a cross between disgust and absolute amazement. Brittany actually claps, and Quinn just looks at you with her rosy cheeks and a timid grin.

"I don't think so, Rach," she says gently.

"Let's go, B," Santana pulls her up from the couch, but Brittany seems rather reluctant to leave the scene.

It's like drunkenly finding the light switch in a dark room, and it seems like a great idea because you're Rachel Berry, destined for NYADA, and nothing is off limits.

"Before you answer-"

"I think I already did," Quinn says, pulling her face from her hands and sitting back against the couch to look at you.

She looks mildly amused, so you continue anyway, "Look, I've been told I'm a great kisser," you feel the words leaving your mouth without much consent from the sober part of your mind, "And apparently you're also a great kisser. So it wouldn't be bad or anything."

"I'm sure it wouldn't," Quinn says, her lips forming a semi-drunk, tilted smile.

"And it would just be fun," you argue. You don't know why you're still talking, but Quinn isn't moving away from you. You think you should just lean in and do it, but this is Quinn and the gold cross on her necklace shines in the fluorescent light of the room. "I've never kissed another girl, but it's bound to happen. Like, with college and everything. Plus I think experimentation is totally a healthy and acceptable thing. Not to mention that I wouldn't mind my first girl-kiss to be with you. We are friends after all."

"I cannot believe this is a real conversation right now," Quinn says, mostly to herself, looking at her hands in her lap, laughing lightly. And your stomach feels warmer and you admire her delicate fingers and how they mimic the graceful curve of her lips.

"I can. So?"

Quinn shakes her head as she returns her gaze to your face, and once again her hazel eyes seem to slightly sober you up. She brings her hand to your cheek and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Let's go outside for some air."

Your heart hammers painfully against your sternum as you follow Quinn out to the back porch, and you ignore Brittany, Santana, and Puck all watching hopefully.

Quinn sits on the steps and tugs your hand to get you to sit beside her.

"I forget how silly you get when you drink," Quinn says, looking up into the sky. You look up as well, the glow of the streetlights blocking out all but the brightest stars.

"If by silly, you mean annoying, then I apologize," you say, "But, might I add, I adamantly use chapstick."

"Rachel…"

"What? I'm just saying…" You should feel more embarrassed, but the summer night has a cool breeze and something about being outside in the slow-moving night with Quinn makes you really want to kiss her. You turn and look at her, unable to see the color of her cheeks in the dim porch light. "You really are beautiful, Quinn."

"Thanks," she says, looking at you briefly with an expression as if she believes you. You know a lot of people tell her she's beautiful, and anyone can see she is – you just wish more people treated her like she was as beautiful inside as she is outside. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because consent is important to me."

She laughs.

"Consent is no laughing matter, Quinn."

"I know, I know. I just… I'm just trying to get into that head of yours."

"I understand if you wouldn't want to kiss me. I'm not like Brittany or Santana-"

"That's why I like you, Rachel."

Quinn's eyes won't meet yours, so you just take her hand.

"Who would've thought a few years ago that I'd be sitting outside Noah's, drunkenly trying to convince Quinn Fabray to kiss me?" You have to laugh, and even a small snort escapes.

Quinn chuckles and takes the wine cooler from your other hand, placing it to her other side. Your entwined hands sit between the both of you, but you lift them and scoot closer to her, letting your hands rest on your left leg. Quinn grins at this, rolling her eyes playfully.

"You're so strange," she mutters as you place your head on her shoulder, "and beautiful. And you're going to absolutely stun the lucky person you decide to drunkenly make out with at NYADA," she says quietly, running her thumb along the back of your hand.

"Why not now? Kiss, I mean," you say, your head still resting against her as you look at your hands, letting your thumb run up the inside of her wrist.

Quinn sighs, "Because… You've already stunned me… with your voice, your talent, your ambition, your patience, your forgiveness."

Your mouth drops open slightly, and you lift your head to look at her, but her eyes have turned back to the sky. The dark green of the night reflected in her hazel eyes make you wonder why you never considered kissing her before.

You feel Quinn's hand tremble, so you give it a squeeze and let out a small laugh, "But not my lips, huh?"

When Quinn's eyes meet yours, you hold your breath when you see her eyes scan your face. You know you have a relatively sloppy attempt at a casual smile, but you notice her eyes pausing on your lips as you lick them nervously.

"Oh, Rachel," she says, nervous laughter hanging in the air, "You have a good argument, and you are beyond stunning."

"But…"

"But we're sitting outside of Puck's house the summer before you leave for NYADA, and you're drunk and you just broke up with Finn."

"I'm not _that _drunk." She looks at you doubtfully. "Okay, but that's what was supposed to happen, though. Right? Let him go to follow my dreams?"

"Yeah," Quinn says, her hand now on your cheek as she tells you sincerely, "But you're hurting. I'd hate it if you woke up tomorrow and realized this was a bad idea."

"I understand your concerns…" you say with a heavy sigh, "I am rather emotionally distraught."

"Well, you're handling it gracefully," Quinn says, standing from her seat. "C'mon. Let's get back inside before the rumor mill explodes."

You grin, and you can understand Quinn's concern about your intoxicated state when you stumble a bit as she pulls you up. You accidentally fall into her, and that light laughter you've grown so fond of escapes her lips as you lean into her. She wraps her arms around you, and you close your eyes when her breath ghosts over your lips. Then you feel her soft lips press against your forehead, and you open your eyes and try and focus on the golden star-like specks in her eyes as she rubs her hand on your back. You wish you were more sober so you could see her more clearly, so you could kiss her with confidence.

"You never cease to amaze me, Quinn."

She shakes her head at what you assume if your dopey smile before leading you back inside.

You find Noah forcing out a fake punch-line of a nonexistent joke to Santana and Brittany who go along with it, as if they weren't looking outside the window they're surrounding.

"Nothing happened," you say as you and Quinn walk by them.

"Boo!" Brittany and Noah say at the same time. You give Noah an incredulous look as Santana collects ten bucks from him.

"Whatever _did _happen, I'll get it out of you, Fabray," Santana says with a smirk.

Quinn ignores her and just takes you by the arm to dance with the other glee kids.

* * *

"Last night was… I'm sorry," you say, cradling your head in your hands. Both you and Quinn are clinging to your coffee mugs at the Lima Bean, hoping your headaches will disappear sooner rather than later.

Quinn chuckles, "Nothing to be sorry about. Drunk logic works like that," she says in that husky, tired voice only she can pull off.

"I'm sorry if I was pressuring you."

"You weren't…" You raise an eyebrow at this, "Okay, a _little_, but you _were_ asking. I'm frankly surprised you didn't have a powerpoint presentation."

You laugh and feel the heat spread to your cheeks. God, you are not smooth at all.

"It's fine, Rachel."

You nod, "Thanks. I'm glad you talked me through it," you pause as you watch Quinn stir some stevia into her coffee, "Things with Finn are… complex. I'm sorry if you felt like I was using you as a distraction."

She shrugs, "No, I get it. Truth is, if you had just leaned in and kissed me, it probably would have been fine."

You almost choke on your coffee, but you pretend that you just needed to clear your throat.

"But you wanted to talk about it," Quinn explains, a grin playing at her lips because she knows she got a reaction out of you, "so I figured you needed to think some things out."

"I'm a mess, aren't I?" you laugh morbidly.

"No, just a bit of beautiful disaster," Quinn says, smirking into her coffee mug before taking a sip.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

You continue talking over coffee, and you wonder when things became so easy with her. You wonder why you never noticed the way she runs her tongue along her front teeth when thinking about something, or that she bites her bottom lip when she's rolling her eyes and trying not to smile. You decide right then and there that you'll spend the rest of the summer learning all these parts of Quinn, these parts that remind you how strong she is, and how deserving she is of someone who loves her. You wish more than anything, you realize, for someone to love her, and you're not so sure why that strikes a chord in your heartstrings.


End file.
